


Suitable Topics

by Aithilin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day, the last thing Lestrade wants to talk about is Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suitable Topics

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I've got their voices worked out, or not. But it is definitely fun to try.

“What can you tell me about that man, Detective Inspector?”

“What? Watson?” The paperwork was already making its way into his hands when Lestrade realized that Mycroft Holmes had just strolled into his crime scene. One Holmes was bad enough but two in the same night? He needed some sort of coping mechanism. Instead, he just offered a shrug and skimmed through the few witness reports gathered in the last hour. “Came up clean when I did a name check after Sherlock dragged him to my last scene. You probably know more already.”

Lestrade couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his mouth. For all their dignity and arrogance, the Holmes brothers were just like everyone else when it came to family. “Why? You worried?”

Mycroft made a soft sound of acknowledgment as he watched Sherlock and John hail a cab. “Hardly. But you know what sort of company my brother keeps.”

Holmes for ‘worried’ then. The lights of the nearest cruisers had finally been turned off, most of the work done, now that the coroner had okayed the removal of the body upstairs and Lestrade was glad for the progress. One step closer to dinner and then home. It had been a very, very long day. 

“Come off it, Mycroft.” A grin was definitely the only response he could offer to Mycroft’s look of absolute horror at the phrase. “John couldn’t even believe that Sherlock used to be a junkie. I don’t think the man counts as the usual sort your brother attracts.”

“He does seem to encourage Sherlock—“

“Right, that’s enough.” Another look of horror at the interruption, but Lestrade couldn’t bring himself to be too amused right now. Maybe later, when he replayed the whole thing and realized that he was a step away from telling off some pompous git who probably made Sherlock into what he was. It had been a long day, and he was sick of dealing with the Holmes family drama. “I’m done dealing with Sherlock for today. And, I’m not interested in talking about what he does with his new friends. If you’re going to stick around, make yourself useful and buy me dinner. Otherwise, bugger off and leave me to finish up this 30 hour day.”

He left Mycroft to flounder at the edge of the scene while he ducked back into the building to hand off the rest of the clean-up to Sally. When he emerged, and pulled his jacket closed against the night— dissipating adrenaline reminding him that standing about in a winter night was not the best thing for his health— Mycroft had moved back towards the fancy car a decent distance from the scene. Another minute of making sure things were going to be wrapped up smoothly and Lestrade wandered over to make sure the interloper was going to move along sometime before dawn. 

“Look, Mycroft—“

“There are very few reputable restaurants open at this hour, Lestrade. But I’m certain you are not opposed to ‘takeaway’?” 

It was said with almost the same tone Lestrade had heard people mutter about diseases. Lestrade couldn’t help the grin this time. “I could do with something warm. But I’m still not talking about your damned brother. I’ll have to deal with him enough tomorrow just to get a statement.”

“I’m sure I can find a more suitable topic, then.” Mycroft indicated the open door to his car.


End file.
